


(Not So) Subtle Couple

by eccentrick



Series: Tumblr Prompts [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Secret Relationship, they're super obvious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 09:48:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13097532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eccentrick/pseuds/eccentrick
Summary: Tumblr prompt: I have a silly Lancelot request. How about Lance and Lotor being in a secret relationship, and try to hide it from the rest of the team. Whenever they're caught being intimate, they make random excuses.





	(Not So) Subtle Couple

**Author's Note:**

> I promise...I'm still working on LMI. I've just been taking a small break.

It starts with something simple. The halls are dimly lit, replicating dusk, washing the area with an almost romantic lighting. 

Lotor, new to things like affection, corners Lance and promptly kisses him. The Prince is still unsure how to ask to receive touches and gestures, so he hastily grasps Lance’s slender hips and ducks them into a darker corner. 

Lance loves kissing, Lotor knows. He supposes it's something to do with the intimate contact, touching and tasting and feeling. To Lotor, it's about something less tangible, less accepted. 

Possession. 

He cares for the Red Paladin like he never thought he could for another individual. And, now, he wants to be able to contain every article of contact, scent, and words into a place where he can never forget once this inevitably get complicated. Once others inevitably get in the way. 

Lance hums into his mouth, tongue getting a little too eager. Lotor obliges, as he always does, and eases Lance closer still, until their chest to chest, body to body. Lance threads his long fingers into Lotor’s hair, the locks spreading to accommodate the new intrusion, soft as silk. He sighs as he does this, like it's all he's thought about. Knowing his lover, it's most likely correct. 

Lotor feels his muscles relaxing one by one, comfortable within his own skin since the last time they've been able to do this. He no longer has his pretense of arrogance and smug satisfaction to strain his eyes and pull uncomfortably at his conscience. 

This is his mistake. He lets his guard down, a flaw of his and Lance’s relationship. 

“Hey, what are you guys doing?” 

Lance jumps before going as stiff as a board. Lotor, master of masks, put on an expression of genial disbelief. 

“Hello, Little Paladin.” 

Pidge purses her lips, eyes rolling so far back in her head that it is a wonder how she stays standing. “I thought I told you that quit calling me that.” 

“Well, perhaps I could, if it didn't fit so completely.” He makes sure to smirk, to get Pidge angry enough that she doesn't notice their compromising position.

“I'll pretend I didn't hear that. But, come on, didn't you hear Allura’s announcement? What have you two been doing?”

Lance laughs nervously. “Er, well, Pidge, I was just. . .,” he glances at his hand still spread through Lotor’s hair. “. . .braiding the Prince’s hair! To get ready for Allura’s meeting!” 

Pidge raises a thin brow. “You're going to braid while standing in _front_ of him?” 

“It's a Galran tradition! Prince Lotor insisted!”

Lotor so wishes he could cover Lance’s mouth and keep his nonsense behind locked teeth. What an embarrassing set of excuses. But, since he is a ‘ride or die’ as Lance has put it, he only says, “That is correct. It is the most familiar to me despite its dark origin.” 

Pidge gets this blank look. “Whatever. I don't want to know.” She gives Lotor one of her own smirks. “And you don't need your pretty hair all done up. Allura said it was a _ship_ meeting, not a _war_ one. Have fun with,” she gestures to both of them wildly, “Whatever this is.” 

Lotor knows she's suspicious, that they succeeded in raising her alarms, but she leaves without another word with the silent promise of future interrogation. 

He is surprised to find himself somewhat dreading the occasion.

\-- 

Lance asking to spar should have been a red flag in and of itself. Antsy within his own mind, Lotor agrees happily, ready to sweat out his pent up aggression, despite the late hour.

It should have been no surprise to find himself in his current predicament. 

Lance straddles his hips, squaring him in. The irony is that he could easily overpower the Paladin, push him off and begin sparring once again. He doesn't do this. Instead, Lance grins triumphantly, the smile bordering on raunchy. When he thrusts his hips down, he allows it with a groan of pleasure’s first spark. 

This spurs him on, the room becoming increasingly heated. He grips the back of Lance’s neck to bring him down into a dirty kiss, but before lips can meet lips, chipper footfalls resound through the air. 

Lotor quickly flips Lance over, pinning him underneath him in a decidedly unsexy way. With an arm twisted behind him Lance is about to complain before he realizes they've been caught. Again. 

“Ah, you got me again!” Lance projects his voice, so the intruder can hear. 

“That's the sixth time already,” he replies, smirking at the large number. If Lance is going to continue to put them in these situations, he is perfectly allowed to inflate things in his favor. 

“As expected from a _Prince_ ,” Lance says through gritted teeth. His competitive side shines. 

“Perhaps.”

“Look at you boys!” A voice chirps. Coran. “How proactive! May I ask if I can join you young lads?”

Lotor vows revenge after two hours of Coran’s manic skips and hops and hand chops. 

\--

The next time, it is Hunk and Keith to find. It's a tame display, their hands threaded together as Lance teaches Lotor a dance from the human’s homeland. (Lance, his ‘teacher’, ends up stepping on his feet thrice.)

“Want to join us for lunch,” Hunk asks, arms full with unidentifiable items. Keith is empty handed, arms crossed as he frowns, glancing between Lotor and Lance. 

“Nope!” Lance says quickly, voice cracking. Clearing his throat, he continues in a rush, “You see, if Prince Lotor is going to peace meetings he should know things like dances, right? Right?!”

Keith shakes his head and Hunk laughs. Hunk hefts the sagging boxes in his arms up. 

“I'll leave leftovers then,” Hunk replies, voice. . .indulgent. 

As they both leave, Lotor sighs through his nose and waits for their doom.

(Lance’s fancy for dramatics has been progressively affecting his own.)

\--

Hunk rubs his hands together to whisk away any leftover flour. “Shouldn't we just, like, tell them we know?”

The others gathered within the Castleship’s shake their heads in unison. Pidge looks lightheartedly disgusted, like she caught her brother making out. (She basically did.) Coran is wistful, Allura conflicted. Keith is his usual self, and Hunk. . .well, Hunk is happy for Lance. 

Coran rubs his mustache. “They're as obvious as a moogerager. And moogeragers are the size of most weblums! So, really, very obvious.”

“I vote we see how much more obvious they get despite the grossness,” Pidge says.

Again, they all nod in unison.

**Author's Note:**

> (I know this is unrealistic but I'm treating myself and the lovely person who requested this.)
> 
> I take requests on my Voltron tumblr: lo-tor.


End file.
